


birthday presents

by sourcheeks



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Baking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: Darby didn't like Sammy or anything. He could just use an excuse to dust off his baking skills.
Relationships: Darby Allin/Sammy Guevara
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	birthday presents

Sammy was an asshole. Obviously. Darby couldn’t stand him or the other Inner Circle jerks. Inner Circlejerk? Darby would have to figure out how to work that into a promo. 

Still, he stood at his kitchen counter with an apron on, measuring out flour and sugar. 

“What’s your deal with this guy?” Mox asked, watching him with a healthy amount of disdain. 

“I don’t have a deal,” Darby huffed, tapping the sieve against his palm to shake out the dry ingredients. “I’m just trying to do something nice.”

“This is the same guy that hit you in the throat with your own skateboard and injured you so badly you couldn’t talk for weeks. Right?”

Darby became very preoccupied with whisking in milk and butter so he didn’t have to look at Mox. “Look, he’s - I mean, fine. It’s that Jericho asshole, you know? Pulling his strings.”

Mox threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, Far be it from me to stop you from flirting with your mortal enemy, idiot.”

“Hey, Guevara.” 

Sammy looked Darby over with a sneer. “What do you want?”

“Woah, hey.” Darby set a white box down on a supply box, raising his hands. “I come in peace. Heard your birthday is on Sunday.” 

Sammy eyed the box skeptically. “Yeah? What’s in here? Is it gonna be like - a rabid rat or something?”

Darby rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. I know we have, like, a bad history or whatever. But I’m not going to try and  _ kill _ you.” He smirked. “Jericho? Maybe. But you don’t annoy me quite that much.” 

Skeptically, Sammy lifted the lid off the box. A dozen cupcakes sat inside, decorated to look like little panda faces. He laughed. “You got me cupcakes?”

Darby shrugged, crossing his arms. If Sammy didn’t know better, he’d say Darby was blushing. “Yeah, I mean - it’s your birthday, so. It’s, uh, been a while since I’ve really baked anything, so… don’t expect much.”

“You made these?” Sammy peeled part of one cupcake wrapper off, eyeing Darby skeptically. “They aren’t full of, like, laxatives or whatever, are they?”

“Jesus, no!” Darby groaned. “Here, look.” He grabbed one, unwrapping it and shoving half of it in his mouth. “See? It’s fine,” he said, voice muffled by cake and icing. 

Sammy shrugged, taking a bite. “Huh. This is pretty good.” 

“Thanks.” Darby had white icing on his cheek. Sammy reached out and swiped at it with his thumb, making Darby take a quick step back. “Hey-”

“You have food on your face, loser.” Sammy snorted. Darby grumbled, scrubbing his face with his hoodie sleeve. 

“Whatever. Happy birthday, Sammy.” 

“Thanks-” Sammy barely got the word out before Darby was gone, sulking off to go be dramatic somewhere else.

“Where did you get these?” Santana asked. Sammy was sharing his cupcakes with the rest of the Inner Circle. 

“That Darby dude.” Sammy smirked, self confident. “He totally has a thing for me.”

“He does,” Jericho agreed. “It’s  _ gross. _ You’re out of his league.”

“I am.” Sammy nodded. He was, after all. Darby was a weirdo. And a  _ loser. _ He’d lost to Chris for the title, as Chris often reminded them. Sammy couldn’t afford to be bogged down by him. 

“He’s a good baker, though.” Sammy licked a bit of icing off his finger. There could definitely be worse outcomes from someone having an unrequited crush on him. 

“I just don’t get it. I mean - Sammy  _ Guevara?”  _ Sonny made a face. 

Darby sighed. “Why does everyone think I have a thing for him?” He was gonna kill Moxley.

“Because you’re, like, obvious about it!”

Darby bristled. “I am  _ not!  _ How can I be obvious about a crush I don’t have?”

“Oh, honey.” Sonny squeezed his thigh. 

Darby grumbled, changing the subject. “Pink or blue?”

“Blue.”

Darby picked up the bottle of sparkly blue polish, focusing on Sonny’s nails. But his mind was drifting. “Do people really think I like Sammy?”

She chuckled. “Well, don’t you?”

“No!” he groaned. “God. I hope  _ he _ doesn’t think I like him.”

“Oh, Sammy thinks everyone likes him.” Sonny laughed. “You know how boys like that are.” 

“Yeah.” Darby sighed. “God, I can’t stand him.”

“But you still made him cupcakes,” Sonny replied.”

Darby blushed. “Whatever. Shut up.” 

“Hey, Allin.” 

Darby grunted as something was shoved into his stomach, grabbing it on instinct. He tensed, ready for a fight. “What the fuck, Guevara?”

“It’s a present! Jesus!” Sammy crossed his arms. “Just - ugh, don’t tell anyone I gave it to you.”

“Sure. My lips are sealed.” There was a shoddy wrapping paper job around the soft package, and he peeled it off. A pair of black leggings, printed with sheer skulls. “Huh. These are… really cool. Thanks, Sammy.” He tucked the leggings into his bag. 

“Whatever!” Sammy huffed. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. I’ll kick your ass. But, uh - I owe you. For the cupcakes.”

“Sure.” Darby smirked. “We still hate each other, right?” 

Sammy smiled. “Right.”

“You know I’m dead if this ever gets out.” 

Darby hummed against Sammy’s neck. “Don’t worry. I can keep a secret.” He squeezed Sammy’s hips lightly. “I’m  _ definitely  _ not inclined to talk to Jericho.”

Sammy laughed, arms wrapping around Darby's waist. "Real shame about that hotel mixup."

"Oh yeah. Real shame." Darby draped the hotel blanket over both of them, giving Sammy another kiss. 


End file.
